G Gundam Fan Fiction ❯ Rise, Crusade Gundam! ❯ Vs Neo-Zaire's Congo Gundam ( Chapter 9 )

"George's Cross!" Mark lunged forward, and swiftly decapitated his opponent. Some two months after the visit to Neo-Israel, Mark had entered into a Gundam Fight with the representative of Neo-Spain, the Flamenco Gundam. A skilled opponent, Mark found himself under fire from beam castanets, trapping him in a field of pure energy. It was only with the use of the beam lance as a hurled to mount a rear attack that Mark had turned defeat into victory.

 

The head of the Flamenco Gundam, a result of form over function, slowly rolled on the Neo-England arena floor. For once, it wasn't raining, and was actually an example of British sunshine which was a rarity. The crowds erupted into applause, and the two fighters climbed out of their Gundams. They walked towards each other, and shook hands. Mark smiled, and knew that his opponent was one of the few 'great' fighters out there; a man who was genuine in personality, and true to his nation.

 

"It is a shame, my friend, that we shall not be meeting in the finals, hm?" The Spanish fighter chuckled.

 

"I know. But you were too damn good, I couldn't stop you otherwise!" Mark laughed in response. The Neo-Spain crew quickly swept away the Gundam, and within the hour, the arena was left as it was the day before. Mark had been taken to see Barclay for a briefing.

 

As he was pushed down the hallway by Kitchener, Mark could feel a lump in his throat develop. He had realised over the past months that his attitude was out of order, especially to the man who had raised him as his son. Granted, he had been choked by a lack of freedom, but Barclay's position was tenuous; if he failed in the risky decision of putting Mark in over Graham as the Neo-England representative, his ministry would be in serious trouble, and he wouldn't last another election.

 

He softly knocked at the door to Barclay's office.

 

"Come in, Mark," he responded. Mark stepped inside, closely followed by Kitchener, who was eager to hear Mark getting chewed out. He was swiftly turned away by Barclay.

 

"So...What did you want to see me for, sir?" Mark struggled to keep his eyes from the floor. Although he would never admit it, he felt ashamed by his actions during his time as a Gundam Fighter. The rash fight with the Texas Gundam. Open ignorance of orders from his superiors. He'd begun to wonder if Graham, being properly trained in a military environment, would have suited this role any better.

 

"Mark...I was pleased with your performance today. You've clearly matured over the past weeks."

 

"Sir...I..."

 

"Let me finish. While your fighting style still requires polish...you came through for us. I'm proud of you...son." Those last words caused Mark to raise his head. He could feel a tear slowly well up in his eye.

 

"...Dad?" It was the first time Mark had ever called Barclay, his adoptive father, 'dad'. Barclay blinked in surprise at this, and got up.

 

"Mark? Did I...hear you right?" He received no response. Tenderly, the two embraced, clutching each other with all the love of reconciliation.

 

Hours passed. Mark lay in bed, later at night, thinking about his future. Gundam Fight or not, he wasn't sure what he wanted to do next. It was only a few short months until the Final Battle. He felt lucky to still be in the Survival Elevens. However, many opponents still waited to be challenged. And, of course, provided he did get to the Final Battle, the Neo-Australian fighter was a seasoned veteran. Mark didn't know if he was up to the challenge. But he knew he had to try. For his friends, for his 'father'. He knew he couldn't betray their trust in him, not now, not with his newfound sense of purpose. He thought long and hard about his next opponent. Many opponents still wandered the Earth, and Mark knew they could only be stronger than his previous combatants. He tried to put such worries from his mind as he slept into the night.

 

Neo-Zaire was always warm. Part of the perks of living near the equator, Bahari Tomo always joked. That said, he never really relished living in such warmth. Possibly part of his unusual nature. Or at least his reasoning for challenging Gundam Fighters in the northern hemisphere. As the Gundam Fighter for Neo-Zaire, he always got to travel, one of his great loves, and also to enjoy colder climates. He had made a name for himself in the Gundam Fight community by soundly defeating the Banshee Gundam of Neo-Ireland within a minute. However, his other matches were all draws. Neo-Russia's Tsar Gundam. Neo-China's Phoenix Gundam. He had yet to know another victory, and was constantly searching for a means to better himself.

 

All this was why he was now heading towards Neo-England. A northern, colder climate. A Gundam Fighter who was strong, but still capable of defeat. And, judging by his apparent refusal to challenge the fighter for Neo-Israel, despite his presence there, he too was looking for a means to improve his skills. This battle could be very beneficial...

 

Morning. Mark awoke calmly, for the first time in weeks. He felt serene, at ease with himself, following the events of the day before. After washing up, he went to see Kitchener, to discuss their next move. Upon entering his office, he was surprised to see the room was filled. Barclay stood, shaking the hand of a stranger, a tall black man, while Kitchener stood, arms folded as always, in the corner with a grim look on his face. Barclay turned to see Mark, and smiled.

 

"Mark! It's good to see you," he greeted, "it appears you've got a challenger today!" The man walked up to Mark, grabbed both of his hands, and shook eagerly.

 

"I am Bahari Tomo, of Neo-Zaire. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Anderson." His voice was warm, and friendly. Mark could feel in his handshake a man who was the pride of his nation, in character as well as fighting.

 

"It's good to meet you too, Mr. Tomo," Mark responded. "I assume you're here to challenge me?" Bahari chuckled.

 

"But of course! I have heard much about your exploits, and I wish to test myself against you," Bahari said. "My skills are in danger of growing rusty, and I require a good work out."

 

"Funnily enough, I feel the same," Mark replied. "Shall we start now?"

 

Some hours passed. The two fighters now stood in the arena, facing each-other, ready for battle. Mark looked towards his opponent, the Congo Gundam. Massive in size and stature, it resembled a gorilla in appearance, and even the fighting style Bahari adopted was based around a gorilla's slumping walk. Mark opened up the secure channel in his MTS, and called to Graham.

 

"Got any info on this guy?"

 

"He's pretty strong, and pretty agile," Graham replied. "He's only won one fight, but drawn all the others."

 

"Thanks pal. Now, let's get to business!" Mark shut off the mic, and clenched his fists.

 

"Gundam Fight!"

 

"Ready!"

 

"Gooo!" The two fighters surged forward, and began to circle each other, waiting for an opportunity to launch a winning blow. Mark withdrew his lance, and held it forward, keeping the Congo Gundam at bay. However, Bahari leapt up with the grace and skill of the animal his Gundam imitated, and landed behind Mark. Before he could turn around to strike, Bahari swiftly kicked the back of the Crusade Gundam, knocking it to the floor. Mark tried to get up in time, but found the considerable weight of the Congo Gundam bearing down on his back.

 

"Mark!" Graham called out to him. "You're weakening pretty fast! You gotta get up before he snaps your spine!"

 

"Lovely..." Mark muttered. "Any gaps in his technique?"

 

"None so far. Your best bet is to try and roll out of the way!"

 

Mark tried to act on his friend's advice, but to no avail. The Congo Gundam was too heavy for his strength to overcome in this situation.

 

"Come on! You're capable of much more than this!" Bahari called out. "What have you been doing these past months, training, or sleeping?"

 

"You'll...see..." Mark groaned. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. Despite laying face down, and feeling the earth press against him more and more, he saw his hands could still grasp something. With this in mind, he activated the George's Cross. The sudden burst of energy reacted with the ground, violently exploding. This created a sudden imbalance in the Congo Gundam's position, allowing Mark time to quickly get onto his feet.

 

Bahari shook his head. Dust blocked his vision, and all he could see was the silhouette of the Crusade Gundam, and the glowing red energy of the George's Cross.

 

"That was quite the technique. But you're forgetting one thing," Bahari growled. "You can't use it without an arm!" With an insane burst of speed, the Congo Gundam jolted forward, and grabbed hold of the Crusade Gundam's right arm. The intense weight tore the arm from its socket, causing Mark to scream in pain. Graham uttered a surprised cry, and quickly contacted Mark again.

 

"Mark! Are you ok?"

 

"I'll live. So, this guy's clearly stronger than me. How the hell do I beat him?"

 

"You'll have to use your lance, and get him at a distance."

 

"With my left hand? We've never practised that..."

 

"No time like the present. Just keep your distance, and watch out for his speed."

 

Mark leapt back, while Bahari tossed the arm away. The lance laid to the ground a short distance away, but so did the Congo Gundam. Bahari chuckled, and leapt towards Mark.

 

"You should give up. Your main weapon is useless without both arms, and I remain unharmed," Bahari taunted.

 

"Oh yeah?" Mark had been waiting for such an assault. He quickly ducked under the flailing limbs of the Congo Gundam, and grabbed a leg. While not of the strength to pull it off, Mark could still slow him down with this. While Bahari got up, Mark had grabbed the lance, and rammed it into the mid section of the Congo Gundam with all his might.

 

Seconds passed like minutes for Mark. Had his ploy worked? Was the Congo Gundam still able to fight? Bahari grunted as he tried to pull himself up. However, his legs were unable to move. As this revelation slowly came to him, Bahari sighed.

 

"You win, Mark Anderson. Congratulations." Mark blinked. He'd won. Even after losing an arm. Graham breathed a sigh of relief. It was about time his advice helped Mark towards a victory. Bahari slowly climbed out of his Gundam, and waved towards Mark.

 

"Mark Anderson! I wish to talk to you!" Mark got out, and came over to see him.

 

"What is it?"

 

"That was my first loss. It is now painfully evident to me that my training is not all it could be," Bahari bitterly remarked. "Are you in need of a training partner?"

 

Mark blinked again. This was strange. Even stranger, it was the answer to his previous woes.

 

"Yes, I do. Are you offering...?"

 

"Well then! It is decided! We shall train together until the Final Battle!" Bahari proclaimed, his powerful voice echoing throughout the arena. This announcement was the source of much discontent in Kitchener...

 

"What? Is this a joke? How can he be helping an opponent like that?" He spluttered. "Prime Minister! Do something!"

 

"Now now, my dear general...This could be beneficial to Mark. Remember, you were complaining about the destruction of your Casshings, and Mark's apathy towards that training programme? This could work out very well," Barclay stroked his chin. "Very well indeed..."